


Always

by nobetterlove



Series: Yours, Me. [1]
Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Letters, M/M, TW: drug use, cuteness, marijuanna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 15:22:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobetterlove/pseuds/nobetterlove
Summary: Clay's new favorite pasttime gives him insight into a deeper part of himself. Tony finds out in a sloppy letter. Mentions drugs, but it's not a big player in the actual story.





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> So, hi! This is my first fic. I had a pretty insane reaction to this show and love the hell out of these two. I wanted to see where I could take them and this is where it led. I'm gonna make a series of one shots out of this, hopefully, so let me know what you may think about that after. Thanks for the read, guys.

Lighter in hand, Clay relaxed into the back of his computer chair, bringing the bowl to his mouth. A quick flick brought about a skunky smell as smoke filled every crevice of his lungs. Since embarking upon this particular extra curricular activity, the capacity of his lungs to handle the burn was substantially better. Holding his breath until his eyes watered from the burn, Clay released his hold, grinning as the high creeped through his veins, leaving glorious nothingness in its wake. 

In an instant, his brain threw on its no vacancy sign, quickly opening its doors to the creativity and numbness the drug brought with it. Sighing, his limbs feeling heavier, the boy grabbed a pen. His eyes caught the paper waiting to be filled on the desk. 'I'm finally healing,' he thought, 'it's time to get my life back.' Gripping the InkJoy, Clay took another calming breath before burying his head, letting the words flow. 

\---

The next morning, Tony walked through the halls, stopping at his locker. Sighing deeply, his fingers spun the dial on autopilot. The passed week marked a whole year since Hannah's death. His stomach rolled at the thought of how each of the thirteen dealt with that truth. From Justin's complete disappearance to Jessica's stronger than ever bounce back, Tony watched it all, eager to find out where his tactic of coping stood among the others. Only one person gave him worry. Closing his eyes, he thought about Clay Jensen, his ocean blue eyes still taking the very breath from his chest, and that damn scar on his head and how adorable it made him look. Out of everyone, Clay's struggle to cope confused him the most. The already turtle shell of a boy seemed to merely make it his mission to stick to himself, allowing only Tony and Skye to penetrate his barriers. A shudder ran through him at the thought of Clay's newfound habit, the surprising reek of it he found on Clay's clothes that first time breaking his heart... just a little. 

Tony couldn't argue with the success of the result, thinking on it then - despite how he felt about it. Clay seemed to be more present, at least around the right group of people. His shoulders sloped with relaxation, gorgeous cheeks were constantly upturned in a guarded, but lazy smile... the Clay he knew all his life was finally back, sort of. He shook his head suddenly, reminding himself once again not to play with the fire of his feelings for the brunette. 

Finally pulling open his locker, Tony barely caught the wad of paper flying at him as it fell from the shelf. He relaxed his grip on the paper, realizing his name was sloppily written in sloped handwriting on the front of the stack. His stomach turned as his mind floundered, every piece of energy within that moment placed on identifying the handwriting. Opening it slowly, the boy sucked in a long breath. 

'Hey,' he read, immediately recognizing the character still running through his mind. Clay's chicken scratch littered what seemed like miles of his writing desk at home, evidence of their many years of friendship. His eyes scanned the paper quickly, trying to find a quick clue to the content, but didn't. Sliding a hand through thoroughly gelled hair, Tony gripped the paper a fraction tighter, beginning to read. 

\--

Hey, 

My fingers are numb, so you'll have to excuse the messiness of my handwriting. Chicken scratch, right? That's what you've always called it. 

Anyway. 

In my self imposed solitude, I have read as many books as I could manage to keep my  
mind as busy as possible. One thing they don't tell you about pot, is while it does numb your senses, it doesn't turn off the never ending stream that is your mind. The entire Harry Potter series dude, that's all I have to say. 

Which brings me to what brought me to writing this. I know you've never read the series, but Severus Snape is this iconic character that I've always kind of being in 'like' with how she wrote him. His final moments in the book, you see how he's got this undying love for Harry's mom and that basically saved everyone. Snape is asked about her, 'after all this time?' He simply replied with - always. 

My heart kind of pounded this time reading it because the voice I had in my head wasn't Alan Rickman's (but oh what a voice!), no... it was yours. I immediately thought about all the late night calls we've shared, all the times I say thank you and you say the same thing he does. Always. Like the thought of me not being around hasn't ever crossed your mind. 

Always. 

Always. 

What complexity a single word can bring. 

I know I've been pretty distant lately. Blazing up and getting lost in my own head has taken up a lot of time. Thinking about life and Hannah and nothing... it's hard work when all your mind wants to do is dwell. 

To be honest with you, man, I've been stuck on that always word since I got through that book. I've been... stuck on you and the way hearing your voice say it made me feel, even if it was only in my head. I've torn through everything in me to decide how to manage what all of this has stirred up in my overactive mind and my mangled heart. 

You deserve it all. The truth, the me I have the full potential to be - it all. Since putting this pen to paper, I actually feel like I'm ready to give it, like I've been silently working through all of this for that single purpose in mind. 

I loved the idea of Hannah. I loved the ghost of her even before she became one, the whispering thought of who I could be with her, who we could be. I felt like I could love the person she was, but after wracking my brain, it seems like I've always kind of known that she wasn't the person I felt compelled to love. My twisted ass has belonged to you for as long as I can remember now that I've... let myself. 

You were there when I didn't have anyone to talk to back in kindergarten. You were there when I almost swallowed my first ever lost tooth. You were there, chocolate depths in all, watching as my life fell apart, only to be there again to help me pick it back up. I only hope that I've been there at least half as much for you. 

I almost... need that to be the case. 

I bet your forehead is wrinkled in the way it always gets when you're confused and off balance because you didn't see this coming, and if I'm timing things right, I'll be across the hall to see it. 

Look up, Tony. 

Let me show you how much I've finally let myself see. 

Yours, 

Me. 

\--- 

A constant increase of velocity timed the thump of his heart against his chest. Listening as that same beat rang in his ears, Tony had to blink a few times before looking up, afraid that if he didn't, this would all be some.- horrible hallucination, or a fucked up fever dream. 

Pupils blown from the emotion of it all, obsidian eyes peeked up, almost as if he were a young child again, smiling at the boy for the first time. Time slid to a complete stop that next instant as clear blue collided with rich brown. Clay's lips were turned up half mast, the lethargic expression more attractive than Tony could have ever thought possible. His eyes roamed the taller boys face, taking in the pinkish hue of porcelain skin. A shiver ran down his spine, Tony suddenly realizing the immensity of the treasure held still so tightly in his grip. Without thought or practical knowledge of what he was doing, Tony felt his legs carry him across the hall, gliding on air until he reached Clay's locker. His back against the cool locker, Tony felt himself come back down, letting the brisk feeling of the metal remind him of their setting. A deep breath later, the boy felt ready to initiate what he felt could be a life changing event. 

"Hey, Jensen," Tony spoke loudly, trying his best to sound relaxed with the reins of control in his hands. "Your handwriting is still shit." 

A look of wonder passed across Clay's face as he seemed to take in Tony's smile, contentment and happiness radiating from it. This was Tony's way, this was how he always dealt. 

Tony saw Clay look down before he answered. "I was quite inebriated, dude. I had to keep licking my fingers to make sure I didn't get Doritos dust on it." 

The smaller boy couldn't help but laugh, the sound starting as a snort at the back of his nose. "I never thought I'd say this, but you're such a stoner," he took a breath, sidling up closer to the taller boy, "and I kind of dig it." 

By the time the words were out of his mouth, Tony had his fingers wrapped around Clay's forearm, his body moving on its own accord. That seemed to be the right move as the other boy relaxed into the touch, despite the suddenness. Tony felt his thumb move across the fabric of Clay's latest hoodie, the coarseness of it helping him keep his feet ever so slightly on the ground. They were in school for Christ's sake. Too many prying eyes for such an axis titling moment. 

"How about a drive?" he said breathily, dark eyes lazily moving back from where they'd taken in Clay's lips. His heart thumped harder against his chest, the acceleration only adding to the profoundness of the scene. Clay appeared similarly affected, unable to speak as he merely nodded his head, gripping the strap of his backpack a little tighter. 

Tony couldn't resist gently prying long fingers off of that strap, tangling his own calloused digits with Clay's. Moves such as this weren't uncommon for Tony, so he didn't fret as they walked down the hall hand in hand. People were still busy talking about the whirlwind that was Hannah Baker and her tapes to be eager for new gossip, anyway. 

They waited impatiently for first bell to ring before slipping out the side door closest to where Tony always parked his car. The Mustang shone brightly in the early morning sun, like an extension of him just as happy with the turn of events as he was. Numb fingers juggled with his keys one handed, his other hand latched particularly tight to Clay's. A soft sigh and thanks left his lips when the key finally slid into the passenger side door. He opened it quickly, detaching his hand despite his entire being telling him to do otherwise. 

As Clay eagerly climbed in the car, Tony tried to nonchalantly sprint to the driver's side, his finger twitching to get back to where they fit so snuggly against the other boy's. His smoothly slid onto the leather seat, the slight creak giving him the comfort he needed to keep enough composure to get where he wanted them to go. His shaky fingers gripped the keys, turning them softly. A happy smile slide across plump lips as the sound of his hard work hit his ears. A laugh brought him back, Clay always finding his love of this car a nice quirk. 

"I almost feel jealous," the taller boy muttered, dimpled cheeks wrinkled with a soft smile. "I like when you car geek out. It makes me feel like we share some nerd connection." 

Tony shook his head, grinning still. "You'll never hear me agree with that, Jensen," his voice rich, sarcasm flowing as he shot Clay a wink. Swift hands put the car in drive, pulling them away from the parking lot before grabbing Clay's hand again, giving it a squeeze. "Pick a CD, if you want," he said, tapping their joined fingers against Clay's thigh. He still felt a little stoic about the replacement of his cassette player. The pure sound of a tape would never be the same, no matter how classy it was. 

The other shook his head, pressing the classic rock station preprogrammed for times just like this. Despite the earlier excitement, the drive was a comfortable silence, each singing along to the songs, Tony playing the chords against the back of Clay's hand. 

It felt as natural as breathing, ending up at the cliffs where the truth finally found its way to being. Where for the first time, Tony knew what it felt like to be as honest and vulnerable as possible. As he parked the car, Clay was already turning to him, the groggy smile on his lips once more. 

"Our spot. I appreciate the sentiment," he said with amusement and affection in his tone. 

Tony lit up, the pretense of being tough and sure struggling to stay in place as he allowed himself to for once, feel hope and happiness he never thought possible. 

"So. Your stoned up letter," he started, pulling his hand from Clay's only to cup his shoulder. "Real or not real?" 

Clay smirked, their movie sessions obviously not completely lost on Tony. The same smile adorned his lips as he spoke, his body moving slightly closer, Tony holding his breath as he did. "Real. I've been running to fast to belong, just to outrun what I still can't change. There's one constant, man. There always has been. It's shit it took a tragedy to make me realize, but in the healing, I found you. In me, you know, how I felt about you." Tony saw him stop and shake his head, seemingly searching for words. 

Tony didn't give him a chance to find them, knowing that only the ignition of fire was appropriate for this moment. He leaned forward, pressing slightly chapped lips against not so surprisingly soft ones. His body melted when it finally, after so much time, felt like coming home. They zinged, the electricity of the moment overflowing into the small space of the car. 

Tony felt the same long fingers clenched tightly in his mere moments before tangling into his carefully styled hair. A soft moan escaped one of their lips, who's, it didn't really matter. Tony's own hands were sliding down the back of Clay's head, gripping the length of his neck ever so slightly. They kissed until there was no air, only carbon dioxide, recycled as they share breath. Tony pulled away first, nuzzling his nose against soft skin dotted with sepia freckles he could see from his peripheral vision. 

"Holy shit. I want to do that all the fucking time," Tony panted, placing wet kisses around the area of Clay's face. Eager to keep the closeness in case this really was all a dream. 

Cerulean eyes twinkled with what could only be described as naughty delight. "Well," he started, smirking, "you do have a pretty big seat back there," he finished,  
pointing an ink covered thumb towards the back seat. 

Before the reality of it all clicked, Tony couldn't help but think that Clay had been reading a lot, the black smear of his fingers something he both admired and wanted to have trailing down the length of his body. The thought shocked him back to where Clay seemed antsy to join Tony in the back seat to continue kissing, searing life changing electric shocks through ever fiber of his being 

Quickly divesting himself of his leather jacket, Tony dropped the keys to the floor and climbed into the back seat, gesturing eagerly for Clay to join him. The taller boy didn't waste a second, following Tony as quickly as the small space in the cab would allow. Tony let his arms wrap around Clay's waist, pulling the boy down so they were pressed closer together. He tangled his hand in the shorter locks, petting as he pushed gently, leaning up himself to catch semi-swollen lips in a heated kiss. 

A pool of fire settled in the pit of his stomach, it being fanned by the little noises that left Clay's lips, by the way the boy's hips would circle slowly when Tony would suck on his tongue a second longer than politically correct. His hard-on pressed against the seam of his jeans. Hands still attached to Clay's hips, Tony used his leverage to pull Clay further into his lap, their jean clad erections straining at first touch. He felt without oxygen for a second as the feeling rushed over him, his head thrown back as he tried to catch a breath. Clay panted into Tony's mouth, the taller boy just as susceptible to the feeling. With a groan, Tony sucked and nipped at Clay's lips and tongue while he let his hips continue the feeling quickly filling up the space in the car, making Clay and good and fuck all Tony could think about. 

"Clay, fuck," he finally grunted out, breaking the muddled silence of pants, moans, and the obscene wet slide of tongue on teeth. "I-I this is what I have never let myself want," he babbled, his body reaching a closeness to the peak way before he's emotionally ready. The gasps and twitches Tony can feel against his own shaft say that Clay is just as close, but he wants to cling to this moment regardless. The weight of unreciprocated devotion lifted off him and he wanted to soak up as much of this feeling as he could... for as long as he could. 

"Let yourself. Want this. I want you," Clay muttered between breaths of air, his legs tightening around Tony's thighs. 

The words tipped Tony over the edge, his hand tightening on Clay's ass as he spilled pant up emotion into the 'y' of his boxer briefs. He felt Clay shudder against him, the boy's teeth digging into the softness of his lip in the process. He sucked in a deep breath at the erotic feeling of Clay's teeth breaking the skin of it, but forced himself to focus on the way he was losing control while sitting on his lap. 

After another couple of moments, they both collapsed, Clay laying his full weight against Tony. The shorter boy bringing his arms around his shoulders. 

"Fuck, Jensen." he babbled, surprised by what just happened. Surprised by how different he felt in this situation, so different, so different than any other time he'd been here. 

The cum in his pants would've bothered him, but his fingers found Clay's hair, and the softness mixed with the rhythm of the boys breathing calmed him. 

Clay snuggled against him, the hand in his hair having a calming affect like it did to Tony. Blue eyes shone and a smile overtook his face as he tilted it up slowly, pressing the softness of caresses on Tony's lips. 

Wrapping him up tightly, Tony felt content to lay until Clay moved to get up. He felt the other snuggle to him, Tony letting himself press a soft kiss to the hair that tickled against his cheek as Clay laid against him. 

It was hard to hear, as Clay spoke half against his skin, but the mumbled 'I'm glad you're here, Tony.' against his skin wasn't missed. Placing another kiss to the boy's hair, Tony grinned, mumbling what started it all. "Always."


End file.
